The Ultimate Betrayal
by Gladrial10
Summary: What's the worse thing Harley can do to her puddin? JokerxHarley
1. Chapter 1

_Beta: RisqueSno_

_Spoilers: Takes place right after the episode "Harley's Holiday" in Batman: The Animated Series._

_Disclaimer: DC owns all these characters and WB owns DC and Time Warner owns WB and I'm pretty sure the rest of the world._

* * *

**Ultimate Betrayal**

**Part 1- The Question**

He was in solitary _again_. He hated to admit that any kind of punishment had an effect on him (and he made sure to never let on as much), but he despised it here. Sure, it gave one plenty of time to scheme. Why, he'd come up with some of his more successful escape plans in this very room! ….It was dreadfully boring though. The only contact he had was when somebody shoved food through the door, but they took off before he could even begin a joke much less deliver the punch line.

He tried to keep his mind off such things by planning his next big prank on Gotham. It was no use though. All he could think of was what got him put in this awful room in the first place. He still didn't understand what happened exactly and it was really beginning to grate on his nerves (particularly the ones around his toes). Maybe if he just sat here and tried to put it all together piece by piece… He'd be a regular detective!

"Now all I need is a kid in bright spandex to attract the bullets!" he declared aloud.

It was a funny line but no one was there to enjoy it and he wasn't really in the mood. Okay, from the beginning then…

It all started about two weeks ago.

Harvey Dent was being escorted past his cell.

"Hey Joker! I hear you're losing your clown girl. They say she doesn't want anything to do with you. From what I understand, she's being released this very day." Two-Face gave a triumphant smirk both sides looking immensely pleased with themselves

All he could do was laugh, changing Harv's smirk to a sneer as the guards pulled him away. If he was trying to get to him, he was going to have to try a lot harder than that. No one knew Harley better than him. She'd be back. She _always_ came back and there's nothing the Bat or these quacks can do about it. In fact, he loved it when she tried to rebuild her old life. It only proved how much power he had when it all came tumbling back down.

News travels fast in Arkham and any news about Harley was bound to get to him especially quick. She was readmitted this evening. Brought in by the Bat himself! A passing thought of getting to see his straight man flew through his mind, but he was sure Batsy wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Then it hit him like a train. It was only a mere day before she returned! That's all it took! Even he couldn't believe it. It was true; she couldn't survive a day without him. He was far too pleased with himself.

He didn't think his ego could get much bigger, but it was always easy with Harley. It's funny when you thought about it. She started out trying to heal him, but, in reality, Harley only fed his mania by feeding his ego. Hell, he's probably gotten sicker _because_of her. The thought sent him into a hysterics. He heard many of his fellow inmates shouting at him to shut up, which, of course, was his signal to get louder.

The following day he was escorted to the community room. He so hoped that Harvey was going to be there and was very pleased to see that that it was the case. He slid up to Two-Face, his already wide grin stretching even further.

"Say Harv, what was it you were saying to me the other day? I think it was..."

The Joker drifted off. Something was definitely wrong. He was gloating, but was quite sure that Two-Face was trying hard, very hard, not to laugh at him. He looked around the room and saw the same expression on everyone else. No one made eye contact with him. Instead they were turning their faces or looking at the floor and they were all trying to stifle their laughter. Every now and then, a chuckle escaped and was quickly silenced.

It was surreal to the extreme. Days went by and everywhere he went he was greeted by similar behavior. The guards were doing the same when escorting him from place to place and he even caught some of the shrinks joining in as well. The worst part was not knowing why. He got the distinct impression that everyone was too scared to tell him what, exactly, was so fuckin' hilarious.

That wasn't the only thing that was odd. He hadn't seen Harley since she'd returned. Usually he would have had a glimpse of her by now. They would have eaten together or at least passed each other in the hall. Sometimes, Harley would even bribe a guard to allow her to see him briefly. So far though, absolutely nothing, no note, no message, nothing! It wasn't that he cared...but it was weird.

Another day in the community room and he was at the point where he'd rather just be left in his cell. Ivy was here today as well. He'd been dreading this, but it seemed the best way to get answers. This all started when Harley returned so he was fairly sure it had something to do with her. She had better not have embarrassed his name out there. After all, everything she did was a reflection on him. Ivy knew Harley almost as well as he did. He may even find out why he hadn't seen her. He really hated the idea of having to go to her though. She'd get way too much satisfaction from it. He sat on the opposite end of the couch where she was watching some weed show on the television. He endured the expected stifling of the laughter and waited for her to calm down.  
"So Pammy..." he began.

"No," she answered abruptly.

"No what?"

"No, I won't tell you anything. It's only for Harley's sake. She's begged me not to. Believe me," she snickered. "I would like nothing better."

She didn't even try to hide it anymore and doubled over in laughter.

He's never been known for his patience and thought he'd taken things quite long enough as it was, so he beat her unconscious with his shoe. What was the big deal? Everyone overreacted to it of course. That's when they threw him into solitary. He's not sure how long he'd been here. It's best not to keep track of time down here anyway. It'll consume you. After going over all the details again he wasn't any closer to an answer...what was so funny?

* * *

**Part 2- The Solution**

Jeremiah Arkham paced back and forth in his office. Joan Leland watched him from her seat on the opposite side of his desk. They both knew they had their hands full. It seemed so silly, so juvenile, but they knew what this was going to accelerate into.

"We have to put a stop to this now, Joan!" he stated firmly.

"What exactly do you suggest?" she responded calmly.

"How the hell should I know!" he said as he threw his hands up in the air.

"You already have an idea though. I can tell."

He waved her off dismissingly. "You aren't going to like it. Hell, _I _don't like it."

"Tell me what it is at least and let me decide."

"Well...we have to get this all out in the open," he began. "There's no way this thing is just going to blow over. We both know he'll eventually figure out what happened. It's better that it's revealed to him in a controlled environment."

"You mean one where we have the guards prepared for it. I completely agree," she nodded.

"And then there's Harley. She's even more of a mess than usual! She still hasn't come out of her cell since her arrival, correct?"

"I can't even coax her out for our sessions," Leland confirmed. "She usually enjoys them. I got the majority of the story prying it out of her from the outside of her cell while she sat balled up in the corner. "

"She will begin to feel better once this is all over with. That much I am sure of."

Joan narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're skating around something."

"I suggest a group session," he practically blurted out.

"Now wait just a minute! This is my patient!" she stated adamantly while rising to her feet. "We agreed from the very beginning to never go that direction. 'Couple therapy', the very idea! You said yourself, that it would only _validate _the relationship, if you can call it that. That's the worst thing we can do for Harley."

"Yes, yes, I know all that! But we can't keep pretending it doesn't exist either. I really thought he'd be sick of her by now, but here they both still are. I know that it's not a relationship that makes sense, but it is there nonetheless. I'm not suggesting we nurture it...just...use it occasionally if need be."

"I want it to go on record that I am completely against this."

"Listen Joan..." He sank into his chair, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. "I understand how you feel, but this is the only course of action I can see. We have to let Joker know what has occurred and we have to let Harley be the one to tell him. It'd be far worse coming secondhand. You know that." He leaned in closer and gave her that pleading look she could never say no to. "I need you to take this session. You've always had a special bond with Harley. She's only going to feel safe enough to do this if you are the doctor there to support her."

Joan sighed heavily. She was not looking forward to this. Not at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 3- The Revelation**

"Think you can behave yourself now, clown?" A guard had come to escort him out of solitary.

"Back already? I was just beginning to get comfortable. I've been thinking, this room could really use some color, maybe some curtains and a few throw pillows."

"Very Martha Stewart of you," the guard grunted.

"Martha? Has she been transferred here?" he asked excitedly. "Eddie owes me all of his lunch rolls for a month!"

It was kind of nice being back in his cell. In a strange way, Arkham had become a home of sorts. It was the only thing one leading his kind of lifestyle could be sure of. Not that he wanted to hang around any longer than he had to.

The very next day two guards had been sent to escort him to some sort of counseling. Typically, the doctors waited a few days to see how the patient was readjusting out of solitary before starting sessions again. This allowed the inmate to get back into the swing of things. Joker shrugged such an anomaly off though. They often took a different approach when it came to him. However, he was surprised to find that they had stopped directly in front of Dr. Leland's office. She had never had much to do with him at all. On top of that, there were two other guards already standing on either side of her door waiting for them.

Before he could venture a question, the door was opened and inside he found Dr. Leland sitting behind her desk and Harley sitting on the opposite side sobbing into her hands. Used tissues littered the floor surrounding her. A guard closed the door behind him, but he knew all four were still out there. Leland gestured for him to sit in another chair that was next to, but at a safe distance from Harley. He shrugged and plopped into it, splaying his legs.

Joan began with the Joker. She had to speak up a bit to be heard over Harley's wailing.

"Harley is very upset," she began

"You were at the top of your class, I can tell," he retorted sarcastically.

Joan gave him a disgruntled look.

"Oh puddin'! I'm so s-s-sorry!" Harley began bawling again.

"Quite right, you should be. Don't worry, I'll think of some way you can make it up to me." He had no idea what she was talking about.

"It's alright Harley," Joan said in a soothing voice. "You can do this. I'm right here with you. Go ahead and tell him what you need to say."

Harley took some deep breaths and tried to calm herself down. Resolutely sitting up with her eyes still closed, she opened them slowly and found the man she adored slouched in the chair across from her, his head tilted to the side resting on his fist. She opened her mouth in a valiant attempt, but broke down again instead. Joker rolled his eyes. He was quite used to this kind of behavior by now.

Joan turned to the Joker. She wasn't really sure how to approach this. Working with them together...it hadn't been done before. No one really knew what their 'relationship' was like. She had heard Harley's view on it of course, but that was a bit skewed to say the least. Joan approached what she was about to say cautiously.

"I don't suppose you can get her to start talking."

The Joker raised an eyebrow and turned to the doctor. Typically he wouldn't be so helpful, but he wanted to hear what Harley had to say as much as they wanted her to say it.

"Sure," he offered, taking a more assertive stance. "Hey Harl, **SPIT IT OUT**!"

Joan threw her pen at the desk and began massaging her temples. The strange thing was, it worked. Apparently, Harley knew that tone of voice. It meant she'd better comply and she had better do it quick. It was impossible to stop the tears so she just talked through them making the whole thing practically impossible to understand.

"Oh Puddin'," she sniffed and began rambling on so incoherently that all Joan could pick up were bits and pieces of phrases between her bawling: "So horrible. Pretty dress. I panicked! Batman. Boxy. The broad was okay. I ACTUALLY PAID FOR IT!" Her tone indicated that she was reaching the climax of her story. "And then…and then…Puddin', I didn't mean it!"

Joan was amazed. It took three attempts of listening to Harley carry on like this from her cell before she was able to piece it all together. The Joker just sat there watching her. He looked disinterested, but Joan got the impression he was trying too hard to seem that way. She could tell that he was picking the whole thing up despite how contorted Harley's sobbing made it. He must have been used to hearing her like this.

"Didn't mean what, sweets?" he said in his most syrupy voice.

Harley knew the moment of truth had come and that there was no turning back. Instantly changing from upset to fearful, her entire body retreated from the Joker. It looked as though she would meld with the chair if she could.

"Now Mistah J, it wasn't entirely my fault" she began in a futile attempt to explain herself. "You see...well, he was just so nice to me." Suddenly she looked very introspective. "It's been a long time since anyone has shown me that amount of kindness." Briefly, she seemed like her old self again, but it quickly reverted when she met Joker's gaze.

"What are you trying to say, Harley?" the Joker said evenly. "Sounds like you're being very unappreciative of me. Perhaps I've been too soft on you in the past." He glared at her dangerously.

"Oh no, puddin' no!" She waved her hands frantically, "I just wasn't thinkin' straight at the time!"

Joan had had about all she could take of this. "Harley, that's enough! Joker, you will not speak again until Harley is finished! Is that clear?"

"Sorry, Mom," in replied with condescension.

"Please Harley, continue," Joan said in a reassuring voice.

"Um, okay," Harley began nervously. "Well, ya see, B-Batman brought me back here and he musta felt bad for me because he gave me the d-dress I bought. I, well, I had a really bad day puddin' so I was j-just so overwhelmed. I only did it to th-thank him."

"Only. Did. What?" Joker responded with an edge of impatience.

Joan was about to address the Joker again, but Harley didn't give her the chance.

"I KISSED HIM!" She had broken down again. "It didn't mean anything puddin'! I swear! You're the only one for me! Please, don't hate me!"

At first it didn't register. How could it? Not only was his Harley completely devoted to him, but she knew better than to cross a line like that. The very idea was laughable, so it kind of went in one ear and out the other. Then he remembered the odd behavior everyone had been exhibiting toward him lately and suddenly he knew it was true. Not only was it the truth, but everyone else knew about it.

This thought process took roughly two seconds. All an outsider would have seen was the sudden fire that erupted in the Joker's eyes as his entire body tensed and then lunged at Harley.

Joan had wisely signaled for the guards to enter the instant Harley revealed her secret and they caught the lunatic midair before he reached his target. Unfortunately, the Joker was never an easy person to subdue and the adrenaline rush that accompanied his anger was making it even more difficult. It was impossible to determine what was going on in the mound of bodies, but the various guards could be heard in their struggle.

"I got 'im!...I think I got 'im."

"I have his leg!"

"That's _my _leg!"

"OW! HE FUCKIN' BIT ME!"

Finally, they had him pinned to the ground. The Joker was seething as they lifted him to his feet. Seeing as he was unable to use his fist, Joker, rarely feeling speechless, found the words to use on Harley instead.

"YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A WHORE!" he spat.

"I know!" Harley submitted sadly, "I know I am! I'm so, so sorry puddin'."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!," he screamed, his eyes now flashing dangerously, "YOU'RE DEAD TO ME! YOU HEAR THAT! DEAD!"

"Don't say that! I'll do anything!" She turned to the guards and pleaded. "Let him go. It's my fault. I deserve to be punished, not him."

Instead, the guards escorted him back into the hall, all the while struggling to keep a hold on the thrashing madman.

* * *

**Part 4- The Cover-Up**

Back in his cell the Joker fumed silently. This was one of the few times in his life where he did not want any attention. He was beyond frustrated. It was not often that the mighty Joker didn't know what his next move should be.

He knew that he told Harley that they were through, but he also understood how unrealistic that was. Violent thoughts flew through his mind of all the ways he could make her pay. It all came back to the same problem though: He'd never be rid of her. His mind raced. Wasn't that because he always allowed her to stay, though? After all, if the Joker wants someone gone, he just gets rid of them doesn't he? _No no! Don't go down that train of thought; you never like where you end up_, he silently chided himself.

He bashed his head on the nearest wall as hard as he could, hoping for the sweet release of unconsciousness. He stumbled a bit, but remained alert. His tolerance for pain was unnaturally high at this point in his career.

It finally occurred to him what had to be done. Accepting the fact that he could not be rid of her whatever the reason may be, he had to make the incident itself disappear. However, deciding what needed to be done and figuring out how to do it were two entirely different things. He paced back and forth as he pieced together a plan of action.

There was no way around it. He had to waste one of his brilliant escape plans, all because of his ditzy ex-shrink. Dealing with the people that occupied the asylum was easy enough. No one would dare mention this incident again, even in private, after he was through. He would put the fear of Joker into all of them, just like he'd done many times before. He might as well be erasing memories. If no one talked about, it never happened. Unfortunately, that didn't account for the physical evidence: there was the dress to consider, not to mention the footage. With the number of cameras in this place it had to be recorded somewhere. Joker shuddered at the thought of the uniformed goons watching it over and over again, laughing at him. He gutted his pillow in frustration as there was no one else available.

He wanted it over and done with, so he implemented his plan that very night. It wasn't as difficult as one might think. He was very familiar with the building by now. He knew the rounds the guards made and which ones were more likely to shirk their duties. However, this wasn't a typical breakout. He was not merely heading for the nearest exit. The business he had to complete would take him to opposite wings of the building.

His first stop was what everyone called the trophy room, but its real purpose was to house criminal evidence. This is where all the belongings the inmates had on them when they were brought into Arkham were kept. Very rarely could you hope to make a stop here to pick up your things before 'checking yourself out'. Most of this stuff ended up in the hands of the employees anyway, where they were either kept as souvenirs or auctioned off on the internet.

He knew that he was running out of time. They would notice him missing soon. He scanned the shelves until he found the box labeled Harleen Quinzel. On top of her red and black costume, pop gun, mallet, and various other toys was a dress. "God, it's pink," he said in disgust. Bundling the garment under his arm, he then started rummaging through a box labeled Garfield Lynns. "What kind of loser calls himself Firefly?" muttered the Joker to no one in particular. Aha! He found the prize he was looking for: a blowtorch. Breaking into one of his trademark grins he quickly took off down the hallway.

Next was the hard part. He had to get into the archive room where they kept all past recordings from the various security cameras planted around the asylum. Unfortunately, it was located right next to the security monitoring station and there was no way the guards in there wouldn't hear him next door. Luckily, he had a good distraction ready.

He got the blowtorch at the ready and fired nonchalantly. He really didn't care what it hit just as long as it did the job. Sprinklers and alarms went off all over the building, soaking the hallways. He sped away from the area as quickly as possible, kicking up water as he ran. He slid to a stop at the archive room and peeked into the next door. The monitoring room was empty. He knew they'd rush out to help contain the situation. You could always count on Arkham guards for predictability.

Easily slipping into the archives room, the Joker set to work. He knew the day Harley was brought back, and quickly collected all the tapes made from each camera that were labeled with that date. It wasn't too difficult; they were all grouped in the same place. As if they were waiting for him. In the distance he could hear the guards as they tried to contain the fire. He was about to give them more to deal with. Dropping the tapes and that horrible dress on the floor, he backed up and fired. The powerful torch quickly engulfed the pile, consuming the items despite the effects of the sprinkler system.

With his task complete, the Joker felt a mighty weight lift off of him. It was over. It never happened. He looked to one side and then the other, shrugged, and sat down, splashing water everywhere. He knew there was no way he would be able to leave, and was lucky he got as far as he did. So he sat there, watching the sprinklers extinguish his most recent flames.

A random guard ran down the hall past the archive room, suddenly stopped and doubled back. He gazed in amazement at the Joker…just sitting there. The Joker looked up at him dully.

"What's up?" he asked nonchalantly

"You...you…you…" the guard stammered, "What are you doing here!"

The Joker looked genuinely confused. "I'm sitting and getting wet. Can we do something about that?" He pointed up at the sprinklers.

"You did all of this, didn't you?" the guard demanded.

He shrugged in boredom. "Pretty much."

The guard called for backup as the Joker waited patiently.

Everyone was pretty furious when they reached him. There was much jumping about and shouting. They violently forced him down the hall and...past his cell...oh no. This was all Harley's fault! It looked like he was going to have plenty of time to figure out how to make her pay. They tossed him into a dark room and slammed the door.

He was in solitary _again_.


End file.
